When Lali Khalid tossed her dupatta into the air for a shoot, she was approached by Americans who commented on her work, thinking that she was making images in rebellion against what they believed to be her oppression as a Muslim woman. But she was also fighting against “the oppressed version of me that exists in her head.”

Young may be surprised to see me latch onto the religious definition of sanctuary instead of the more common, colloquial sense of the “safe haven” they include in their statement. But any good personal sanctuary is, at the root of it, religious in the broadest sense, where one can commune with oneself and those they love. The home–the hearth–is a place of worship.

I must disclose that I am not a passive observer of this work. As Kat’s partner and spouse, I’ve seen them at work. But this is not to say that I am writing as the artist’s spouse; it is not my intimacy with Kat that has inspired this essay, but my intimacy with the work. I’ve been initiated into something arcane, watching intently as Kat manipulates moments to create new histories.